Knitting Gold
by gingerwhovianrobotskeleton
Summary: OneShot Rumbelle Fluff! Rumpelstiltskin catches Belle knitting in the library. She offers to teach him as long as he doesn't use magic.


**_A/N: __While I was knitting my Rumbelle scarf, I got the image of Rumpel weaving straw into gold and then tying the thread together to make shiny gold yarn... Then this idea popped into my mind :) Then the promo pic of Gold sitting next to Gold yarn and knitting encouraged me to finish this!_**

**_It's pretty much a fluff and so-sweet-you-might-get-cavities kind of story. Enjoy! (Also, I __warned__ you about the cavities. DO NOT forward your dental bills to me)._**

**_DISCLAIMER: If you recognize something, I probably don't own it._**

**Knitting Gold**

Frost coated the grounds outside of Dark Castle. Rumpelstiltskin could see it from out of his window. Luckily, spring was on its way and they only had about two weeks to endure before the frost would disappear for the next three seasons.

Of course, Belle didn't want to wait until the first day of spring to try taking down the curtains. "She's lucky I was there to catch her when she fell off the ladder," he muttered under his breath, glad that she wasn't in there to hear him.

_Speaking of which, where is she?_ He wondered.

It was normal that he'd go hours without seeing his caretaker, especially if she was cleaning in the library. With a destination in mind, he left the great hall and walked the flight of stairs that led to the second floor; where the library was.

When he opened the double doors, he noted the room looked brighter. Before Belle came along, he rarely came into this room unless he needed something for any particular deal, which left the room covered in a layer of dust most of the time, the book falling apart and pages hardening from misuse or even lack of use in general. When he had seen the look on her face when she saw this room, he made her a deal that if she could clean the library within twenty-four hours, she could have it and read as much; just as long as it didn't cut back on her chore hours. He was surprised when she had it clean in half the time he had given her.

_"I would've got done sooner if I wasn't shelf reading," _she had admitted.

Rumpelstiltskin had simply waved it off, stating that she had met her end of the deal and that was good enough for him. She spent most of her free time in the library reading; just as he expected her to do, and she always got her chores done (They actually have been getting done quicker since then).

He saw her by the fireplace, sitting in one of the dark green armchairs that occupied the end of the room. She sat with her knees under her and she was wrapped in the yellow quilt he had found for her when it started snowing after her arrival; he didn't want to lose his caretaker to hypothermia.

On the table between the chairs, a book lay open. She glanced at it every now and then, and the other times messed with something else she had in her hands.

"I sure hope this castle is spotless by way of you sitting in here," he called out making her turn her head. He usually said that when coming in here to fetch her for dinner on most evenings.

"I got everything cleaned an hour ago," she told him, a proud smile on her face.

He eyed her suspiciously, like usual, and began naming off all of the rooms in the castle. When she said yes, he nodded and moved further into the room and occupied the armchair across from her.

He could finally see what she was doing. In her hand she held a pair of wooden knitting needles with a ball of maroon-colored yarn. By her feet was a basket of balled up yarn in various colors. The colors all look muted and worn down.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, gesturing to the yarn, trying to hide the disdain in his voice.

Belle looked up from her project. "Oh, I found it while I was sweeping on the top floor," she answered, biting her lip guiltily. "It didn't seem like you were using it, and I didn't want this to go to waste."

He stared at her for a moment. The yarn had belonged to his first wife. She use knit for days on end, making baby clothes for Baelfire when he was little. When she left him, she left most of her belongings behind, including the basket of yarn and needles. He hadn't ever bothered throwing it out, especially after Bae found it one day and wanted to keep it because it was the only thing he had of his mother. He never used it, but seeing it sitting in their home seemed to bring him some comfort.

Rumpelstiltskin wasn't going to get mad at Belle, though. She didn't know. Plus that was one less thing crowding the attic. "Do you know how to knit?" he asked her.

"My mama taught me when I was little," she said, "but I haven't done it much since. I thought I give it a try, and I found this book that teaches you how to do it," she nodded at the book that sat between them. "Do you know how to knit?" she asked, surprising him a bit.

He waved it off. "Knitting, crocheting, sewing... All _womanly_ duties."

He heard her mutter something about 'sounding like Gaston'. "I didn't ask you whether they were the duties of a man or a woman," she told him pointedly. "I simply asked whether you knew or not," she glanced up at him, keeping up the steady rhythm she had going with her needles and yarn.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "I know a _little_," he replied nonchalantly.

"Alright then," she placed her project in her lap, reached over and picked up a skein of brown yarn and a pair of wooden needles. She held them in front of the startled imp. "Show me."

The Dark One scrutinized the faded yarn and needles she held in front of them. His lips twitched into a small smile. "My pleasure, dearie," he said sweetly.

He raised his hand in the air, Belle thought to grab the yarn from him, but then he snapped his fingers and the yarn and needles _floated _out of her hand. Rumpelstiltskin smirked at her surprise. With another flick of his fingers, the yarn tied itself around one needle and began knitting from the other.

Belle watched for a moment as invisible hands knitted a scarf very quickly, with her master making circular motions with his hands to keep the magic going. By the time the scarf had fifteen rows; Belle jerked and caught both needles with one hand, causing Rumpelstiltskin to pause his spell.

"Very impressive," she remarked, giving him a knowing look that he learned to fear; whenever she gave a closed smile and arched her eyebrows as if holding a secret, Rumpelstiltskin knew she had an evil idea forming in her head. "But," she continued, "Can you knit _without_ the help of magic?"

The Dark One stayed silent, staring at the maiden. He could knit _with_ magic, of course. He could use the magic to command the needles to knit themselves, but he didn't know the basics off the top of his head.

"I'll take that as a _no_," she laughed, as if reading his mind.

"I said, dearie," he began, annoyance creeping into his tone, "I don't bother myself with _womanly _duties."

She looked at him pointedly. "I'll have you know that knitting was started by _men_ back during the first ogre wars so they could repair clothing," she informed him, amusement flashing in her blue eyes. "Are you trying to tell me you're not _man_ enough to knit?"

His lips pressed into a thin line, his left eyebrow threatening to twitch. He couldn't have anybody, not even someone as lovely as Belle, questioning his masculinity. He snatched the yarn and needles out of her hand, catching her by surprise.

He stabbed the needle through the first loop of yarn just as he saw her do earlier. He stared at the needles trying to figure out what to do next. He heard Belle snort a laugh, causing him to look up at her. She was covering up her mouth trying to suppress her amusement.

"And what, pray tell, is so funny, dearie?" He asked darkly.

"You should see your face. You look so _serious_ when trying to knit," her shoulders shook with giggles.

Rumpelstiltskin glared at her. He was the most feared being in all of the Enchanted Forest, and she was _laughing_! His fingers twitched with the need to remind her who she was dealing with. He fought it when she stood up, calm again after her little fit. She shrugged the quilt off her shoulders.

"It's alright," she assured him, taking the yarn and needles out of his grasp and sitting on the floor in front of his armchair. "I'll teach you how to knit."

He watched as she took the small scarf off the needle and unraveled the work his magic did. "What are you doing" he asked.

"Starting over," she looked up at him. "Don't you want something that you made without _any_ help with magic?"

He was silent, staring at her questioning eyes. His mind was telling him to just toss the yarn and needles aside and storm out of the room, never speaking of it ever again. But her close proximity (Her form pressed against his leg) was distracting.

A small smile adored her features as she said, "I'll start you off." The Dark One watched with fascination as her nimble fingers gracefully worked the yarn around the needle in an intricate pattern.

"How long did it take you to learn?" he asked.

"It took about an hour trying to get one row done when I knitted my first scarf," she replied, looking back and forth between him and the needle. "It wasn't the most beautiful thing ever. It had lots of holes and my stitches kept getting bigger," she paused, a dreamy look masking her features. "But my mama loved it because I made it," she looked up at him with an encouraging smile. "It was the best feeling in the world."

They sat there for a moment, both of them looking into each other's eyes. The grandfather clock started ringing, causing both of them to glance at it.

"It seems it's almost dinner time," he quickly got up from his chair, donning his usual façade as Dark One once again. "I think roast beef would be good, what do you think?"

"Um, okay," she replied with less enthusiasm, standing up from her spot. "Maybe we can resume our knitting lesson tomorrow."

He tapped a finger on his chin. "We'll see, dearie," he replied, turning quickly and heading for the door.

…..

Rumpelstiltskin made an effort to avoid his "knitting lessons" claiming he was busy with other matters. He would only stop by the library just one minute before the dinner bell would ring to remind her of her nightly chore.

A week and a half had passed since that night. The weather outside was considerably warmer. Aside from the fact that snow still covered every inch surrounding Dark Castle, the sun was finally making its presence known, reminding the world that spring was on its way.

That evening, the imp and the caretaker shared their evening meal of roast beef soup. During her first couple of weeks at the castle, Belle would normally cook his dinner and eat hers in another room. After a while, Rumpelstiltskin requested her to join him while they ate. He claimed that he was making sure he knew where she was at all times. She never spoke of it out loud, but Belle figured he was lonely.

After they finished their soup, Belle headed back to the kitchen to fetch dessert. She came back with two plates of pumpkin pie. She placed one of the plates in front of the Dark One along with something wrapped in brown paper. Rumpelstiltskin scrutinized the parcel and the flimsy string that kept it together. "What is this?" he asked with disdain, pointing a long finger at the package.

"It's a gift," Belle replied sitting in the chair next to him. "It's nothing really," she waved it off. "Just... something I thought you'd might like."

He quirked his eyebrows at her. Wordlessly, he pulled the string from the package in one motion. He folded the paper apart to reveal a scarf.

"I know winter is almost over," Belle added nervously. "But you might need it for next season. or on nights when the castle gets drafty."

Rumpelstiltskin kept silent. The scarf was maroon with tiny flecks of gray from years of being tucked away. He ran his hand over the soft yarn. It took him a moment to realize that she _made_ this.

"This..." he trailed off. "This was what you were working on a week ago."

"I thought dark reds looked really good on you," she smiled. "Do you like it?"

He looked up at her. Her bright blue eyes stared at him, waiting for his reply; hoping it was yes. He glanced at her slightly parted lips and a rush of warmth swam through him. He quickly cleared his throat, trying to shake off the weird feeling. "It's very nice," he replied in a composed voice. "You didn't have to go through all of this trouble."

"I know," she said simply, "but I wanted to." Then she focused her attention on her dessert.

The rest of the meal was silent, both seemingly more preoccupied with their pie than with each other. Every now and then, Rumpelstiltskin would glance back at the scarf he set aside by the spinning wheel so as to not get food on it.

...

After dinner, Belle went back to the kitchen to do dishes and go to bed. Rumpelstiltskin stayed in the dining room, sitting at his spinning wheel as he usually did every night. He couldn't stop thinking about the scarf she had given him earlier. It sat next to him on the chair, the maroon color taunting him.

He stared at it for a while, wondering what could prompt Belle to do something nice for him like this. He took her away from the only home she'd ever known. He locked her in a dungeon and forced her to do all of the chores he could've easily done himself with magic. She was his prisoner.

He thought over the events of their time in Dark Castle. His mind immediately went to the time he caught her as she fell from the ladder trying to take down curtains. Was she thanking him for saving her life?

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. The woman was far too nice for her own good. But still, he felt the urge to do something for her. The library he promised her suddenly didn't seem enough. As he mulled over various thoughts, he let the wheel spin as he begin threading the straw into gold.

The gold thread being spun onto the spool gave him an idea.

"_Very impressive," she said, "but can you knit _without_ magic?"_

….

That night, he had stolen a ball of yarn from Belle's basket as a model for how much yarn he would need for his project. It took two baskets of straw to turn into gold thread, and then into an exact ball of yarn. The texture was surprisingly smooth for yarn, yet soft. He smiled at the brilliance of it. Belle was going to have the most brilliant scarf anyone had ever seen.

He hijacked Belle's knitting book and the pair of knitting needles she had him use the first time. He spent the next two weeks working on it. He'd do his usual work by day, and knitted at night while his caretaker slept. He had a better chance of her not walking in on him.

At first, Rumpelstiltskin had thought it would be a piece of cake, but he quickly ran into problems.

By the sixth row, he had a hole. Appalled, he unraveled it and started over. He went longer without getting any holes, but few more started popping up. He gave up on trying to re-knit what he started, seeing how far he had gotten.

Halfway through, he noticed the scarf expanding in width. Confused, he counting the stitches on his needle. When he casted on, he started off with twenty-five stitches, but somehow, he now had thirty-five.

_How in the world_? He had asked himself. He was pretty sure magic had nothing to do with it. He still kept going. He figured once he was done, he could stretch it out and that it would even up.

By the end of the second week, he was ready to cast off. It turned out to be the hardest thing he had to do. He almost lost a few stitches in the process. Eventually, he gave up, threw the remaining needle away, and used a tapestry needle to stitch a dozen knots around the stitches.

Finally, he tied on matching tassels, deciding that was the _easiest _part.

He held up his handiwork to admire it, but frowned.

He counted six holes dotted randomly throughout the scarf, the increasing width made it look like an awkward triangle, and he noticed a tiny piece folded over and knitted to the spot somewhere in the middle. How did he miss that?

She had said knitting was invented by men and claimed it was manly. _Why does something so manly have to be so hard to do?!_ He pouted, dropping the scarf in his lap.

He couldn't give her this! This was an insult! He didn't know if she would laugh at him or cry. He could easily fix it with magic, but then that would've been cheating. Belle wanted him to try something without the use of magic.

"She doesn't deserve this," he scolded both the scarf and himself. He let it fall to the floor from his lap as he stomped out of the library.

He was a fool to think he could make something perfect for her. He was nothing without his magic, he knew for a fact. Belle, however, didn't care about that part of him. She wanted to see the other side of him; the side he gave up in favor of the dark curse.

He wouldn't let her. _That side of me is just as disappointing_.

…

"What's all this?" asked Belle, her voice still coated with drowsiness.

Rumpelstiltskin turned from the dining table to see Belle enter the room in her usual blue dress. He stood aside so she could see the breakfast he had prepared.

Instead of the scarf, he spent all morning cooking eggs, pancakes, bacon, anything she showed signs of finding delicious during her stay. The imp could at least claim that he was a decent chef if he couldn't knit. He cooked without the use of magic.

"I thought I'd give you a break this morning, dearie," he said, boasting his high pitched voice. "A breakfast fit for a Queen, if I do say so myself."

Belle smiled, taking in the sights of the delicious meal. She sat in her usual spot as Rumpelstiltskin prepared a plate for both of them. "Why, thank you," she smiled wider when he placed a full plate in front of her.

Those smiles warmed his heart.

They ate their breakfast in comfortable silence with the occasional conversation. Afterwards, Rumpelstiltskin had the table and plates cleaned with magic. Belle gave him a curtsy just before she left to start her daily chores. The Dark One left the castle shortly after to make his usual deals.

….

By the time he got back, it was evening. The rest of the day, compared to his wonderful morning with Belle, was boring. As he got closer to the dining room, the smell of pasta hit his nose and made his stomach growl.

With a smile on his face, he entered the dining room to see his caretaker preparing the table with dinner.

"Been busy, dearie?" he asked, jovial.

She turned to face him just as she finished pouring tea. "I just finished making dinner. Everything is done as it usually is." She made a habit out of telling him she had finished all of her chores for the day.

"I believe you," he grinned, giggling.

She laughed with him as she took her seat. He made to sit in his normal chair, but something caught his eye, almost tripping him.

Sitting in his chair, folded up nicely, was the gold scarf.

He stared, his mouth agape. He could see one of the holes he made, making him inwardly cringe. He looked from the scarf to Belle, who happened to be giving him a look he couldn't decipher.

"You made that?" It sounded more like a statement of fact than a question.

Hesitantly, the Dark One nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me you were knitting?" she didn't sound as upset as he had expected; she actually sounded proud.

Slowly, he picked the scarf up off his chair. He placed it next to her on the table. "Well," he began awkwardly. "You had made me that one scarf, and… I wanted to try making you one," he shyly looked down at his feet.

Belle picked the scarf up, feeling the softness of it. "You made this without magic?" she whispered, he almost didn't hear her.

He looked back at her. "You really think I'd give you a scarf with holes in it?" he asked, his eyebrows rose.

Belle stood up from her chair to face him. "It's not that bad," she assured, hugging the scarf to her chest. "You can easily sew them shut."

He frowned at her. "You shouldn't have to. This is why I always rely on magic, Belle. With it, everything I do is perfect. I'm nothing without it," his voice was rising in volume.

"But-"

Rumpelstiltskin sharply turned away from her, snatching the scarf out of her grasp. He stomped over towards the fireplace. Belle predicted what he was about to do and rushed over to follow him. He drew his hand back to throw the scarf into the fire, but Belle snatched it away in time.

He turned to face her, still holding onto one end of the scarf while Belle held the other end. He looked at her, confusion donning his features.

Belle took a deep breath. "Rumpelstiltskin, nobody's perfect," she told him. "Whether the have magic or not."

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. "Belle, you deserve-"

"-something made from the heart," she finished for him, silencing him. "No matter how it looks, this was something _you_ did. Something magic wasn't involved with," she shook her end of the scarf to emphasize her point.

She walked closer to him. He just stood there, shocked by what she was saying. "You're saying you want an imperfect scarf?"

Belle shook her head. "I want a scarf that _you_ made for me, imperfect or otherwise," she looked at the fistful of scarf in her hands. She looked back at him with a smile. "Thank you."

She threw her arms around him in a hug. His arms hung in the air for a minute before he hugged back. The warm feeling he got when she gave him the scarf she made came back, filling his stomach with butterflies.

"You're welcome," he whispered in her ear.

Reluctantly, she stepped away from him. He gave her his half of the scarf, and she wordlessly began wrapping it around her neck. She adjusted it in the right position. "How does it look?" she asked, holding her arms out as if she were posing.

He smiled at her. Not his usual teasing or menacing smile. A real, warm smile. "Beautiful," he told her.

He meant it. The imperfections he saw earlier disappeared. It looked perfect when she wore it. It was beautiful just as she was.

_**A/N: And there you go. I hope you guys liked it! Please review and all that good stuff. If anyone would like to see the Rumbelle scarf I made, just go to deviantART. My username is verdant0angel**_


End file.
